


Under His Skin

by Unsentimentalf



Series: Coming Apart [2]
Category: Robin Hood BBC, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:32:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Right now, Ianto, your opinion is worthless.  That man's screwed you over and he's subverted your judgement.  Enough reason to kill him right there. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under His Skin

_ ** Under His Skin ** _

Title: Under His Skin  
Author: Unsentimental Fool  
Fandom: Torchwood/BBC Robin Hood Crossover  
Pairing: Ianto/Jack/Guy  
Rating: NC-17  
Word Count:8,245  
Summary: _Right now, Ianto, your opinion is worthless. That man's screwed you over and he's subverted your judgement. Enough reason to kill him right there. _  
Notes/Warnings: This is the sequel to ["True to Life"](http://unsentimentalf.livejournal.com/14707.html#cutid1) but it's probably not the sequel that people were hoping for. Dark, bitter and entirely un-lighthearted. Sorry.  
Warnings: non-consensual sex. Spoilers to end S3 Robin Hood, end S2 Torchwood.

Jack walked in through the huge steel door, with Gwen behind him, laughing. Saw Guy of Gisborne, waiting for them, sword hanging at his side, incongruous against the black jeans, and Ianto, a couple of feet to the side, just waiting. Jack's revolver, his attention, was instantly trained on Guy. He didn't turn his head to look at his partner.

"Ianto." Jack's tone demanded explanation. Ianto tried.

"He took my gun."

"Has he still got it?"

"No." Ianto flicked his jacket open to show the holster. Jack didn't look.

"How?" Cold voice. Ianto couldn't remember the last time Jack had spoken to him in that tone.

"He distracted me."

"How?"

Guy hadn't moved since sliding his hand to the sword hilt, reaction to the gun.

Ianto shifted from one foot to another. "He kissed me; tried to." He looked at Jack's expressionless face. "I was trying to stop him."

"What do you think this place is, a nightclub?" Jack's voice was bitterly icy. "He gets that close to you without your express bloody permission, you don't 'try to stop him'. You fucking well shoot him in the stomach, Ianto. He's dangerous. You know that."

Ianto nodded, miserably. He knew that he'd messed up, badly, unjustifiably. Things could have got much worse.

"So," Not a hint of forgiveness in Jack's tone. "He took your gun. What happened next?" Jack's eyes hadn't shifted once from Guy's face.

Guy had stood back, the gun comfortable in his hand. Ianto had looked down at it in shock.

"Guy, for God's sake point that somewhere else. You don't know how it works."

Guy had gestured with the barrel. "Get back against the wall and I'll consider it." Ianto had moved back, carefully, his hands up.

"Good." Guy had examined the gun in his hand. "When you were threatening me, you did something. There."

Safety off. Ianto had sworn. "Guy, please. I'll do what you want. Just point the damn thing somewhere else."

Guy had moved the barrel, a little. Ianto had breathed again.

"It has a trigger. Like a crossbow. What happens when I pull it, Ianto?"

Ianto had taken a breath. "A small piece of metal comes out of the barrel. Very, very fast. It kills, Guy, very easily. There will be an extremely loud noise, the Hub's alarms will go off, the place will go into shutdown and Jack will drop whatever he's doing, come back and kill you without waiting to find out what happened. You can't bluff with that, Guy. No-one here wishes you any harm, but if you try to keep the gun you will be killed."

"I don't want this gun." Ianto had thought that Guy looked slightly shaken. "I want my sword back. Get me that. I will not go unarmed around this place any longer, not when you all have these weapons."

Ianto spoke to Jack. "He wanted his sword. I got it for him. Then he gave me the gun back."

"Nothing else?"

Ianto didn't lie to Jack. Not even by omission. It was his golden rule, these days. Only Jack could assess what Jack would need to know. Still, he hesitated.

Guy spoke for the first time since Jack had entered the Hub.

"Shall I tell him, Ianto." Soft voice.

"No." Jack wouldn't appreciate cowardice. Ianto gathered his thoughts. Just report what happened.

"When he got his sword he threatened me with it. Backed me up against the wall."

If Ianto had thought that the gun had scared him, he had known nothing. Guy with a blade in his hand, grinning, and Ianto was shaking. He could feel the sword tip, hard through his shirt. Death had never seemed so close, so visceral. And Guy had known, had smiled, hint of triumph, in control for the first time since he'd come through the Rift..

"He said," Ianto paused. He could remember every word. "That there was more that he wanted. More than the weapon. He said that he could take it now." Ianto had given up even trying to be brave. He had just kept his eyes fixed on the man's face, waiting for the worst.

"But he wouldn't. You were not his enemy. He wouldn't make you into one. He just needed the sword."

Jack didn't speak, still didn't look at Ianto.

"Then he tossed the gun back to me." With the fucking safety off. Ianto had very nearly needed a change of underwear at that point.

"And he said." Hell, Jack was going to love this bit. "He said that if we were to be allies you might want to consider giving him, or lending him, what he wanted. Again."

Silence. Jack's expression didn't change. Gwen was frowning at Ianto.

"What does he want?"

Jack's voice was dry. "He wants Ianto. Can't fault his taste. Just his fucking sanity."

"Oh." Gwen's voice was a breath. "Again?"

Neither Jack nor Ianto answered. She looked at Guy. "Again?"

Guy's voice was still soft. "I thought you people watched everything. That first night, in the cell. Both of them. Quite a welcome to your world."

Gwen blinked. "Bastard." Ianto wasn't sure who she was referring to. Then she was in front of Jack- nearly in front of him, careful to leave the line of the revolver clear. "You bastard. What goes through your head, Jack? Here's a dangerous bloody alien. I'll feed Ianto to it, that might be amusing. Anything for a goddamn thrill. Ianto could have been killed."

She thought so little of him. Ianto's artificial calm fractured. "I was not fed to anyone, Gwen. I'm not his puppet."

"No. I'm sure it was all your idea, Ianto. Just the sort of thing that you'd decide to do, unprompted. I don't believe Jack has rubbed off on you that far, yet."

Jack's voice cut across them. "Shut up. Both of you. This has nothing to do with sex. This is to do with that damn sword, isn't it, Guy? How you got it, what you did with it."

"It's mine. You took it from me. I took it back. I harmed no-one, I made a suggestion, only. God knows, it got both of you hard enough last time." Guy's lips twisted, a hint of his normal arrogance under the caution.

"You threatened to rape him." Jack's voice was flat, unappealable. Ianto tried ."No. He didn't threaten that. He was telling me why be wasn't going to do it. Why don't you just take the sword back from him? I don't think he intended harm."

"Right now, Ianto, your opinion is worthless. That man's screwed you over and he's subverted your judgement. Enough reason to kill him right there. I don't appreciate having my people messed up."

"No!" Ianto protested, helplessly. "I made a mistake. I know that. But he's done nothing to me. I'm trying to tell you what happened, here."

Jack flickered a glance at Ianto, then straight back to Guy. The revolver hadn't dipped. "If I'd asked you a week ago how you'd handle an armed and technologically ignorant hostile in the Hub, you'd have come up with half a dozen ways to neutralise him. Instead I walk in here, unwarned, to find that you haven't even registered a problem. You're quite content to have him lethally armed, despite the fact that you understand nothing of his motivations. He's found your blind spot and that makes you a liability, here, now. I want you out of the Hub. Go home, get some rest, iron some shirts. Stay there. I'll call you later."

They were- had been- a team. Ianto didn't look at anyone. Instead he walked to the side entrance, opened the gate and left.

He stayed a long time in the shower, washing off the feel of the fear, the cold sweat. Looking at nothing, thinking about nothing. Finally he dried himself, dressed, precisely, as if he were going back to work. Made himself a sandwich, took a bite, felt the nausea rising and threw it away. He ironed some shirts, because Jack had told him to. Then he waited, staring at the phone.

The doorbell made him start. Jack, on the doorstep, looked tired.

"Can I come in?" He always asked, as if Ianto might refuse him, for any reason or none. Ianto nodded, took his coat, hung it neatly. Jack took one end of the sofa.

"Coffee?"

"Yes please."

Ianto's hands stopped shaking, busy with the familiar actions. He wouldn't ask, couldn't. Not if he wanted things to be right again.

Jack took the coffee in both hands, raised it to his lips and took a deep breath in, set it aside. Then he looked up at Ianto, eyes brighter.

"We need a doctor again. I've just spent the best part of an hour patching up a bullet wound in the stubborn son of a bitch."

"He's disarmed?"

"Unconscious in the cells for the moment. You got what you wanted. He's still alive."

Ianto thought of half a dozen responses, thought again. They needed to get this cleared up now.

"Jack," he said, quietly. "There's nothing between me and him. Whatever he wants, I don't. But I can't do this...casual... thing like you do. Can't see him just as a dangerous stranger. Not when he's capable of restraint, when he's making sane choices. I don't want you to kill him. That's all, honestly."

Jack reached up, pulled him down to sit on the sofa, put a hand on his cheek.

"I'm not jealous, Ianto. I'm terrified. For you. I should never have let him near you. He wants you, and he's got himself under your skin. He's not a stranger to you; he's years of your watching, daydreams, and now sex as well."

"You don't trust me." Ianto felt cold.

"Hell, Ianto, it's not a matter of trust. He's smart and cold and ruthless; God knows I should understand him. Last time someone refused him he stuck those several inches of sharp steel that he's so fond of through her gut. He's hardly got a good record of handling sexual frustration. I'm not inclined to overlook anything that he does with that blade near you.

"So why didn't you kill him?"

Jack sighed. "Because I want you to be sure that I've done everything I can, first. Under your skin; it's going to hurt you, when I do it. I won't have you think it was a whim. It won't stop me, when I need to, but right now he's constrained."

He drank the coffee down, three gulps. "I need to get back to the Hub. Gwen should have left long ago."

Ianto swallowed. "Do you...do I need to stay away? From the Hub?"

Jack considered him. "God knows, I'd prefer it. But you wouldn't. You'd sit here and fret. I could do with some company, for a few hours. Just don't go near him, on your own. Please. The car's outside."

Back in the Hub there was no time for company. Jack took an urgent phone call, disappeared up to his office. Ianto tried to settle to some work, with little success. After half an hour he took Jack a coffee. His boss nodded briefly, turned straight back to the telephone.

Ianto turned to go, stopped. Jack's screen showed Guy, in his cell, sprawled asleep on his front. He was shirtless and white bandages wrapped round much of his upper right arm.

Jack reached up, tilted the screen away from Ianto. "Thursday's report?" he mouthed.

"Yes sir." Ianto left.

He dutifully sat in front of the document on the screen, fingers on the keyboard, thoughts miles away. Jack's voice startled him.

"Ianto. Three lots of fish and chips." And the office door closed again.

Ianto balanced the white packages in one hand, knocked and opened Jack's door. "Chips."

"Good." Jack was out of the chair in one fluid motion. "Our guest's awake. Let's go talk to him."

Guy unwrapped the paper awkwardly with his left hand. His nose wrinkled. "This is food?"

"It's your dinner. Eat it or not."

Jack had brought a couple of stools down. He and Ianto sat in the corridor, on the other side of the open cell door, and ate chips.

Guy clearly didn't much like Cardiff's finest deep frying. But he was hungry; he ate everything, steadily, one handed, without looking up. Finally he pushed the papers away.

"Thank you." There was a hint of amusement there.

"How's the arm?" Jack put down what remained of his dinner. Guy thought about the answer.

"Too sore to move. I've had worse injuries."

"Ianto will sort out a sling and some painkillers when we're done talking."

"I thought we were done already. " Guy's eyes were alert. "You've decided that I'm a threat to you. You're wrong. I've nothing to gain by opposing you, and far too much to lose. It's a situation I'm well used to."

"Nothing?" Jack's voice was harsh. "You still want Ianto."

Blue eyes considered Ianto carefully and he struggled to keep his composure.

"Not enough to get killed for. Not nearly enough." Eyes moved back to Jack, dismissing Ianto.

"But you do still want him."

Guy sighed. "You shot me in the arm, Harkness, not anywhere lower down. Your Ianto was sweet to fuck and he's aching to have me back between his legs, but I'll live without it, if I must, He's yours. I've never challenged that. Your rules."

"My rules?" Jack was laughing. Ianto winced at the anger underneath. "Is that the way to control you, Guy? Dangle him as your reward? A week's good behaviour for a long hard fuck? I doubt that Ianto would complain. He certainly didn't last time."

Ianto was aching hard and utterly humiliated. He stood up and the stool crashed over backwards.

"If you have any further work for me tonight, I will be down by the Bay." For the second time that day he walked out of the Hub, silent and alone.

When he got to the railings overlooking the Bay he watched the city lights on the dark water for a few minutes. Then he dropped his head into his arms and let himself cry.

He had said that he'd be there. So he stayed. After an interminable time, he thought to look at his watch. It was nearly an hour after that when he saw Jack striding across the plaza, coat billowing. Jack stopped before reaching him, his hands at his sides.

"Come back inside."

Ianto stood his ground. "You can talk to him without me there."

"We're done talking." Jack's voice was bleak.

Ianto took a breath. "You killed him."

"No." Jack started walking and Ianto followed automatically.

"So what happened?"

"I'll show you." Neither man spoke until they reached Jack's office. "Wait for a moment." Jack sat down, hit a few keys, stood up and gestured towards his own chair.

"Sit there. Watch." His voice softened, for the first time. "Watch it all, for me. Please." Ianto nodded, deeply unsettled.

Three images; the cameras covering the cell and the corridor. Ianto's stool falls as he stalks off, back rigid. No sound; Jack has chosen to mute it.

Guy and Jack both standing, talking, then, clearly, arguing. Defiance and laughter on Guy's face, oddly familiar from a dozen TV confrontations. Ianto had always liked him best when defiant. Careless of the harm that might befall him. Not a good approach to take with Jack. Ianto tensed, watching Jack's anger, seldom so overt. He suddenly remembered the Sheriff. Defiance doesn't always work. He was not entirely surprised when Jack pulled the revolver out of his pocket, pointed it, straight armed, no hesitation, at Guy's chest. Another familiar expression; frustration, defeat, as Guy stopped speaking. His eyes went from the gun to Jack's face and he gave the slightest, reluctant nod, tossing black hair out of his face.

Ianto's nausea rose as he watched Guy struggle, one handed, with his belt, the zipper on his jeans. Guy turned to the wall before dropping them to his ankles, stepping out, awkwardly. Ianto had been unable to persuade him of the usefulness of underwear. One camera showed his back, naked but for the bandages around his arm. The second showed Jack, expressionless, dropping to his haunches to pull off his boots, then sliding braces off his shoulders, deftly keeping the gun on Guy all the time. Now he was wearing nothing but his favourite light blue shirt, his erection pushing up the edge of it. Ianto, watching, started to shake.

Jack bent down again to his discarded clothing, came back up with a familiar blue and white tube. Ianto remembered him putting it in his pocket, last night, when they were dressing again slowly, relaxed, when everything was still all right. Ianto was pretty sure that things will never be all right again. He looked round, desperate for some escape from this. Jack was leaning on the door jamb, eyes unnaturally bright. He nodded towards the screen. "Watch" he murmured. He had changed his shirt.

Jack, onscreen, had smoothed KY jelly up and down his cock. It glistened in the garish cell lighting. Guy had his good arm braced against the wall, slightly hunched, feet apart. None of the three cameras covered his face, inches from the wall. Jack said something, paused, then laughed. He walked up behind Guy, placed the barrel of the revolver carefully between the man's shoulderblades, switched to holding it with his left hand. The camera didn't show what he's doing with his right, but it showed his movements, slow at first, harder and faster, lips parted, eyes blank, right hand now against the wall, close to Guy's head.

Ianto could feel himself shaking, long, uncontrollable shakes. The gun, Guy's injuries, the cell, Jack's deliberate preparations; he couldn't pretend not to understand what word described this. For a while he clung to the hope that there was a reason, a need for this. Then Jack's blank expression gave way to closed eyes, bared teeth, deep breaths. Ianto had always thought him beautiful like this, focussed, transported. He knew, watching that face, exactly how close the man was, heard in his head the small cry as Jack threw his head back, mouth open. How could he have believed that tiny, ecstatic cry was just for him?

It was done. Ianto hit a key to pause the playback, pushed the chair back. Jack was standing in the doorway, unmoved, unmoveable.

"It's not done yet."

Ianto shook his head, despair and disbelief. "For God's sake. Let me go, Please." His voice was no more than a whisper.

"Watch the rest." Jack was implacable. Ianto felt as if he barely had the strength to cross the room. He couldn't fight his way past Jack. With a small moan of utter misery he turned back to the screens.

Jack pulled out, stepped back, light shining off his deflated cock. The gun was still in his left hand.

Guy turned round and Ianto closed his eyes, not wanting to see the man's face. When he opened them, it was not Guy's face that drew his attention. The man's erection was startlingly huge, hard all the way down. Jack looked down at it , said something and Guy laughed. Nothing in those dark features suggested a man broken. Jack tossed him the tube of lubricant; Guy turned it over in his hands a couple of times, said something, tossed it back. Jack nodded, squeezed out a handful and reached down to smear it over Guy's cock, base to tip, slowly. Guy bared his teeth in a grin.

Jack was half hard again. The man's endurance had always far outstripped Ianto's, and, Ianto suspected, anyone's. He watched his lover turn to the wall, forearms resting against the smooth white surface, gun still tight in his grip. Jack was bent down further than Guy had been, his legs further apart. Blue shirttails covered his arse. Ianto's own erection seemed to have nothing to do with desire.

Guy drove his way in, one huge effort, and Ianto watched Jack's head tip back in what might have been pleasure or pain. Guy said something, grinned maniacally, and started to move. Ianto watched his back and thighs, every muscle tensing as he forced himself in, pulled out, repeats endlessly. He was inside Jack. Jack. Ianto didn't look up, knew the man in the doorway was still there. Onscreen Jack was motionless, apart from the jerks as Guy moved. Ianto's erection was burning, painful. He wanted nothing to do with it.

Guy's orgasm was less dramatic than Jack's. Ianto saw him breathing faster, remembered the man panting in his ear. Guy's eyes widened and he stopped. He let Jack turn round, asked what was obviously a question, indicating Jack's erection. Jack shook his head, said something that made Guy smile. Guy walked over to the small toilet area. Jack scooped up his clothes and boots, walked out of the cell barefoot, locking the door behind him. Guy came back, lay down on the mattress and closed his eyes.

Jack was at Ianto's elbow, keying the screen back to current view, where Guy still lay, naked and sleeping.

"That's it. Show's over." He sounded almost cheerful.

"Now." He sat down opposite Ianto, looked at him intently.

"You can walk out of here, email me your resignation and never have to see me again. Or, if you choose, I'll retcom you and today will never have happened.

"Or you can stay here and we can talk about this."

Ianto had been injected with morphine a few times. Knew the deceptive ease it brought, allowing one to think all was well despite the bullet still in the wound. He craved retcon, and distrusted it. His fingers were hard against the desk. He couldn't look at Jack directly."

"Why?"

Jack's voice was steady, matter of fact. "I saw the way he looked at you. You were my hold over him, and sooner or later I'd have used you that way, with your willing consent. Between us we'd have torn you to pieces, Ianto. I couldn't afford to let him live, hung up on you like that."

"So that was, what? Distraction?" Ianto looked at his fingernails.

"If you like. I thought I would change his focus. Far better that he spends his time thinking about screwing me than screwing you."  


"Yes." Tears were sharp behind Ianto's eyelids. "I can see that you might find that preferable."

"I don't expect you to agree that it was a good idea." Jack reached out to touch Ianto's hand and he jerked it away.

"So why make me watch?" His head had snapped back; furious now, he could face the man. "Sheer bloody... I thought you were raping him. Jack. I still think you probably were. I saw every expression on your face. And you offer me retcon! How can you possibly justify such cruelty?"

He wiped tears with the back of his hand. Jack must have showered; his hair was still wet, no scent of sex.

Jack glanced downwards, swiftly, almost as if he were ashamed. "I'm sorry, Ianto. It would be worse, I thought, if I just told you. I didn't want you imagining what was not there. Making more of this than it was."

Groins deep against buttocks, the gun barrel indenting Guy's skin, Jack's hand smoothing lubricant in one isolated movement. Other than that, the men hadn't touched each other at all.

Jack's voice was affectionate. "Believe me, Ianto. I chose the way I thought would hurt you less."

"You chose the way that would give you least trouble." Ianto wasn't ready to forgive, might never be. "Why waste your time trying to explain yourself when you can just sear the pictures into my bloody head, offer me fucking retcon, as if that could possibly make things all right. Is there anything human about you at all, Jack? Any way for you to understand what you do to people?

"You wanted him, and because you're Jack bloody Harkness and you get what you want, you found your excuse. I know you, Jack. That at least, I can understand. But this." He stood up. "I need to go home."

Jack nodded, reluctantly. "Take a few days off, if you need them."

Ianto grimaced. "Yes."

He couldn't go home like this. He was carrying too much already. He wanted his flat to be a haven. Not... He turned into one of the larger, glossier pubs, pushed his way politely past the late evening crowd, into the men's toilets. Images weren't leaving him; he spat on his hand, came, quickly, sickeningly, into the gleaming white toilet bowl. Walked out and home, numb.

Sleeping pills weren't retcon. They didn't change anything. Ianto swallowed two, lay on his bed waiting for them to work. After a couple of hours he got up again, sick and disorientated but no nearer sleep. He pulled the whiskey down from the top shelf, looked at it, put it back. He was going to feel bad enough in the morning without it.

Ianto curled up on the sofa and listened to a programme about an obscure film director on the World Service. At some point he must have fallen asleep because the Today programme was murmuring happily in his ear and the sun was coming through the silver blinds.

He lay motionless until the alarm called from his bedroom. Fifty minutes till he should leave for work. Ianto crawled into bed and pulled the covers around his shoulders, closed his eyes.

When he woke again the clock was flashing 11:27. He had a moment of panic; he had overslept. Then he remembered.

He couldn't stay in bed forever. Ianto showered, dressed, shirt and tie. Contemplated the contents of his fridge, decided to skip breakfast, find something for lunch. The answerphone was blinking; he ignored it for a while, couldn't do so forever. It was Gwen, upset and anxious,

"Ring me please, Ianto. Jack's not talking.. I don't know what's happened. If you're all right. Ring, if you can."

Ianto wouldn't ring. He spent half an hour composing a long text message, awkward with the keys, deleted it, started again. "I'm all right. Ianto."

He was oddly reluctant to leave the house to find lunch, as if something might happen that would put things right, that he might miss, being at the corner shop.

There was nothing to miss. He brought bread, cheese, ate at home, quickly, without tasting anything.

The phone rang. Ianto watched it ring out. Listened to Gwen, again.

"Ianto. If you're there, please pick up. I need to talk to you. You've got to tell me what's going on here. I'm sick with worry." A pause, a sigh. "I'll try your mobile. Please ring back."

He didn't have to tell her anything. Ianto listened to the first few bars of Ride of the Valkyries. Last week's joke. Before the Rift spat out Guy. The mobile went silent. Rang again- that would be the voicemail. Ianto waited for the insistent tone of a text. It took longer than he'd expected; it must be a long message. He left his mobile by the telephone, walked out of the building.

It was growing dark by the time Ianto returned to the flat. He'd taken a taxi, on a whim, out to the edge of the Brecons, winced at the metered fare, paid it in cash, leaving himself no more than a fiver. Walked all afternoon, ruining his work shoes, muddying his grey trousers. A couple of showers had soaked him. He'd seen rabbits, and ravens, and a sparrowhawk flying so close that he could see the individual bars on its tail. Waited the best part of an hour for a bus back to the city, sitting at the back, away from curious looks.

He'd found no clarity, no insight, out on the hills. Only a slight distance, as if it might be happening to someone else. That went, as soon as he returned to Cardiff.

Ianto ignored the phones flashing as he walked through his hall. He put the kettle on, made some coffee, tried not to think about Jack. Rang the Chinese, placed his usual order; he was hungry now, ravenously. He scrolled through the mobile; all calls from Gwen. Dropped the mobile into his pocket without reading any of the messages.

Then he settled down in front of something mindless on TV, tried to get the mud off his shoes. They were probably ruined but he didn't want to give up on them without trying, at least, to save them.

The doorbell made him start, then he remembered the takeaway. But it was Jack, quiet and solemn, standing back from the door.

"Can I come in?"

Ianto thought about it. "No."

"Well then, will you come out?"

Ianto shook his head. "I'm waiting for some food to be delivered."

Exasperation flashed through Jack's studied calm. "For Gods sake, Ianto!"

Ianto shrugged. "Come back in an hour, when I've finished eating." He closed the door on Jack, returned to his shoes. When the delivery boy came, Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Ianto's mobile rang again, just as he was tidying up. This time he answered it. He didn't want to face Jack in ignorance. He picked a couple of Gwen's relieved, babbled questions, answered those. He'd taken the day off. Gone walking. No, he didn't know where Jack was right now, but the man had said he'd meet Ianto, in about ten minutes. Thank you for asking, Gwen, but there really is nothing that you can do. Except, tell me what's been happening today. In the Hub.

Gwen paused. He could almost hear her shifting gear.

Jack had met her at the entrance, that morning, cold and authoritarian. He had forbidden her to go anywhere near the cells. She'd pulled up the camera window as she worked. Guy had woken up around noon, dressed, lain on his bed, eyes open.

Ianto hadn't appeared and Jack said nothing. Yesterday's CCTV footage had gone from the system.

Around 2pm she'd knocked on Jack's door. Their prisoner hadn't had a meal. Jack had looked at her blankly. "Hunger won't kill him." he'd said, looked back to the sword lying across his desk.

Gwen had protested. It was bad enough that they were keeping the man here, without charges, with, God knows, no rights, but Torchwood could damn well treat him like a human being, meaning food and clean clothes and some consideration for his welfare.

Jack's voice had been harsh. "If you don't like the way things are done here, you're free to leave. Otherwise, there's work to do."

She'd worked quietly, on her own, all afternoon, an eye on the picture at the corner of her screen. Jack didn't go near the cells. Guy paced for a while, his left arm holding his right close to his chest. The wound needed checking. He needed antibiotics, painkillers, at least. Did he think they'd left him to rot, down there? Had they?

She'd hung around after the time when she'd normally have left, finding things to do. A couple of hours ago Jack had walked past her, on his way out. "Go home," he'd snapped, over his shoulder. "That's an order."

Alone, she'd come to a decision. She'd gone out, bought some sandwiches. The cells had hatches; she trusted Jack's judgement of danger, didn't open the cell door. Guy had thanked her gravely for the food, listened to her explanation of the painkillers. She'd left him six, enough to get through the night, not enough to harm if he took them all at once.

Asking him what was going on would have felt like a betrayal of Jack; she wished him good night and left.

Her voice was tired on the phone. "Can't you tell me what's going on? Please?"

Ianto sighed. "I'm sorry, Gwen. It's personal. And difficult."

The doorbell rang. "That will be Jack. I have to go. Thank you for ringing. And for Guy."

Ianto stared at Jack on the step, unsure of what he could possibly say. The sight of him hurt, like a physical pain, but worse. Pain in Jack's eyes, too.

"Will you come with me? Just a walk?" Ianto wanted to slam the door. Retreat. Instead he nodded, got his coat.

There was a park a little way down the road; a few swings, a couple of clumps of trees, a five a side pitch. Ianto and Jack sat on a bench and watched a group of teenagers drinking on the swings.

"I should have killed him." Jack's voice was bitter. "I knew that. But I didn't want to hurt you, and here you are, hurt far worse than if I'd done it then."

Ianto looked down at his expensive trainers. He should have worn those this afternoon.

"It was not," he said, quietly, "Guy who hurt me. Abusing him won't help. Maltreating him is intolerable."

"Under your skin." Jack laughed, unamused. "What does it take to stop you two looking to each other? You should be ready to kill him barehanded, after what he did to you, what you saw, and instead you're nagging me about his welfare."

"Was that the reason you made me watch? To hate him? It didn't work, Jack, The only person I blame is you. Since he arrived Guy has done precisely one thing wrong. He took my gun, and returned it a few minutes later. Everything else has been you; your jealously, your desire, your suspicion. You've turned this from awkward into an outright catastrophe for all three of us, and all that you can think of to do now is to leave your prisoner in pain, neglected and hungry because you don't want to deal with him any more."

Indignation on Guy's behalf was easier to express than the pain on his own account. Jack wasn't buying it.

"Is that all that's bothering you? That no-one took Guy his breakfast? Be a little more fucking honest than that, Ianto."

"No. What bothers me, as you put it. What sickens me, what makes it so difficult to even speak to you, is seeing how much pleasure you got from something so soulless and vicious. Do you really know me so little that you think I'd rather watch that than imagine the slightest hint of affection between you two? Jealousy I'd have coped with, but this...I'm appalled, Jack. I don't think I will ever stop being appalled."

The silence seemed endless. Ianto was waiting for Jack's retreat into cold superiority. To be told that he didn't understand, that somehow a hundred and fifty years of life gave some insight that made this all right, that made Ianto childish and old fashioned and essentially unreasonable.

"Appalled," Jack said, at last. "Yes, you would be appalled. I tried, truly I was trying to keep you safe, to keep him controlled. But I had other motives. Everyone always does. Maybe, if it hadn't been for them, I'd have found a different way. One that appalled you less."

"Other motives. How could you want that, Jack? Sex, yes, God I get that. With him. I liked that. More than I should have done; you were both right about that. But with a gun to his spine? He was a prisoner, and injured, alone in this world and utterly helpless, and your response was to rape him? I saw your face. I know just how much you got off on that. How am I meant to understand that?"

Jack shrugged. "I could tell you that he enjoyed it, but you saw that for yourself. You had to see that, Ianto. You'd not have believed me if I'd told you. And it's not the issue, is it? It's not my victims you're concerned for, but the state of my soul."

"And why shouldn't I be, Jack? Why wouldn't I care what sort of man I've been sharing a bed with?"

Jack's voice dropped. "I won't be summed up like this, Ianto. If you must judge me,make it on what I'm like when I'm with you. Can't you settle for that?"

"You didn't give me that choice, remember?" Ianto's voice was a wail. The boys on the swings looked round and laughed. "You made me see, and now you want me to conveniently forget." He thought of retcon, shivered.

"And if you don't forget, where will you be? This is going nowhere, Ianto. I'm not going to change to suit your prejudices. Sitting you in front of that screen was a mistake, a bad one. I'm sorry for that. You shouldn't have had to see that. But the rest was first and foremost to keep you safe and I'll not apologise for that."

Finality in his tone. Ianto sighed. "Well, that's that then. I'll be back in work tomorrow." He stood up, walked to the park entrance. Looked back one to see Jack sitting, straight backed and unmoving, on the bench.

This time the sleeping pills dragged him straight down into sleep. Ianto fought his way back up to the sound of the alarm, choked down a little breakfast and walked to work.

When he took Jack his coffee the man was gentle. Ianto dared a question. "Guy? He's being looked after?"

Jack's head snapped up and Ianto saw a flash of anger that made him want to take the words back. He stood his ground and Jack caught himself.

"Get Gwen to do it. Tell her not to talk to him."

Ianto shook his head. "You ought to go down there. Speak to him."

Jack laughed. "And if I go down there, on my own, in the mood I'm in, what do you think will happen, Ianto? Give me credit for at least trying to live up to your standards."

Ianto felt sick. "I'll tell Gwen."

Gwen had been quietly collecting. Clean clothes, fresh sheets, more painkillers, a sling. A couple of books; they'd established from the TV show that he should read something like modern English fluently. Ianto watched the screen as Gwen made her way downstairs. He had no doubt that Jack in his office was doing the same.

Guy had grown bored of his captivity. He cut across Gwen's careful itemisation.

"I want to see your captain. I want to see Jack."

"Maybe later." Gwen was placating. "He's busy."

"No. I want to see him now. I'll not be used like this, put aside until the next time your master wants a fuck."

Gwen winced. "That first night; I'm sure everyone agrees that it was unwise. It's not the sort of way that it's considered professional to treat prisoners, Guy. It won't happen again."

Guy looked at her, disdainful. "You know nothing. Want to know how your leader treats his prisoners? Professionally? Two night ago he came down here, with his gun, and gave me a choice; his cock up my arse or a bullet in my chest. I know men like that. He'll be down here to do it again, sooner or later, when the anticipation becomes too much to bear. I'm not his toy. I want to be let out of here."

Gwen dumped everything she'd brought into the hatch, slammed it across.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Guy, but that won't work. Jack wouldn't do that."

Guy shrugged. "Ask Jack. Ask Ianto. Then get one of them down here. I've had enough."

Jack met Gwen as she re-entered the main Hub. "I told you not to talk to him." His voice was icy, furious.

She looked past him, to Ianto, her face a mask of shock. "Ianto. You knew. That's what... Fuck, Jack, how could you?"

"He...Guy...he wanted it." Ianto had no idea why he was defending Jack. "It wasn't all one way."

"You threatened him." She ignored Ianto. "You forced him to have sex with you."

"Yes" Jack was still cold. "There were reasons."

"Let him go." Gwen bared her teeth at Jack. "You can't keep him here, after that. Waiting to see who comes down that corridor. You understand trauma, Jack. Whatever your reasons, you can't keep him down there."

Jack glanced to the ceiling.

"Fine. You two know best. We'll cut him loose. Ianto, get his sword from my desk."

Guy stood up as they approached. His eyes ran over them, took in the sword in Ianto's hands, looked straight back at Jack.

"What now?"

Jack keyed the door open. "I want you out of here. Out of my city. Ianto, give him the damn sword back."

Guy's right arm was tied up in a sling. He buckled the scabbard onehanded, proficient, his eyes not turning from Jack's.

"That's it?"

Jack nodded. "Get out of here. I don't want to see you again."

Guy's lip curled in half amusement. He turned to Gwen.

"You know these things. How far will I get with no money, no possessions except this at my hip?"

Gwen shook her head. "Jack, he'll be in a police cell by nightfall. You know that."

"Then he's their problem, not ours."

Guy laughed this time, admiring. "No. No, I won't end up in the hands of your police. This charade is not for my benefit; it's to keep your people happy. I'll be dead before sunset, won't I, Jack? You don't leave your enemies alive behind you."

Even lefthanded, he was fast. Jack crumpled around the sword blade, fell as Guy pulled it back. Ianto was on the floor, cradling the dying man's head. One unreadable look into Ianto's face and Jack's body was still.

Gwen's gun covered Guy. "Drop the weapon. Now." Ianto just waited.

Guy shook his head at Gwen. "No, I'll not be disarmed again. Find me what I need to live in this world and I'll go."

He looked down at Ianto, whose fingers were laced into Jack's lifeless ones. "I didn't make him an enemy. Leave the body, Ianto. You're coming with me."

Ianto shook his head, feeling desperate pity for the man. "That's not the way it works. I'm sorry." The grip around his fingers tightened as Jack gasped his way to life. Guy looked disgusted. "Men don't even die, in your world."

"Just me." Jack dragged himself to his feet, carefully detaching Ianto's hand. He turned his back on Guy's sword to face the other two. "Now will you believe that he's dangerous?"

Ianto took a breath but Gwen beat him to it. "You set him up, Jack. Fed him obvious lies, gave him the sword, made him think you were planning to kill him, offered yourself as bait. This proves nothing, except what a manipulative bastard you can be. It doesn't give you carte blanche to execute him."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Ianto?"

"What she said." Ianto muttered.

Guy seemed to have recovered from the shock of Jack's resurrection. He laughed. "It appears that no-one here is stupid, Harkness. You've treated us that way since I arrived and what has it got you? Nothing that you couldn't have had for the asking, and serious trouble with your lover besides.

"You have done everything that you could to make me your enemy, Jack Harkness. You have imprisoned me, wounded me, stolen from me, lied to me, starved me and forced yourself on me. All this from a man I've known for five days, to whom I've never offered any insult, let alone injury. I ought by rights to be swearing bloody revenge; if you cannot die I imagine you can nonetheless suffer, and there are others whose deaths would make you grieve."

Guy held the heavy sword out in front of him as if it weighed nothing. Jack's blood smeared half the length of the blade. Ianto, still kneeling on the floor, suspected that he could die before Gwen would have time to react.

"But I'm not inclined to have my enemies chosen for me, Harkness. And I have had more than a lifetime's worth of hunting vengeance already. The sword is returned, the arm healing, your woman has seen me well treated even where you would not. And as for your attentions. " He bared his teeth in a grin that made Ianto's stomach twist. "You can try that again, any time you like. Alone, or" his eyes flickered over Ianto, "not." Which leaves just my imprisonment between us. Lift that and you'll find me a better ally than enemy. I've not changed my mind. There are too few of you; you need one more. And I choose to find a place here, since my world never existed."

Jack was shaking his head, amazed. "You barely pause between running me through and demanding a job. With some bloody threats in the middle. There's still the matter of Ianto."

"Who." Ianto said, definitely, "Is quite capable of saying no. To either of you. And has no intention of doing otherwise."

Off Jack's look he sighed. "You...we...are not what I thought. I need some time to think about things. Right now I am not at all optimistic that there's anything worth saving. But if there was something that might, someday, work I would suggest that keeping away from him might be a good first step. For both of us."

Jack wasn't used to being told who he couldn't sleep with. Ianto could see that on his face. But he flashed a smile at Ianto that made the man think maybe it was going to be worth trying.

"It seems, Guy, that you'll have neither of us. Still want to join?"

"Yes."

Jack sighed. "It appears that I am going to have a mutiny on my hands if I shoot you out of hand. I'm not going to let you loose on my world, not yet. And keeping you in the cells turns out to be far more trouble than it is worth. If we have to babysit you, we might as well see if we can make anything useful of you in the process.

"Gwen, you're in charge of his orientation during the day, Ianto in the evening. I want him to understand the city first, then the Hub. Absolutely no information about the Hub's defences without clearing it with me first. That sword is going into storage and, Guy, you will not so much as touch a weapon until I'm sure that you understand what's going on around you and that you follow orders, every time, without hesitation. I expect that to be months away, if ever, We'll find you work to do; you'll think it servant's work, I don't care. You are going to be a huge drain on our time and resources; I'll make what use of you I can. Fail at any of this and I'll dump you on the streets without even the memory of your own name. I can strip away your identity as fast as that alien created it. Do you understand all that?"

Guy nodded, face serious. "Yes."

"You harass my staff, either of them, and the memory wipe will be a bullet through your brain. You follow their orders. Got any complaints about the way you're treated, you can come to me. I strongly suggest that you don't. Otherwise you keep quiet and you learn."

Jack glanced at Ianto. "We are almost certainly wasting our time. It's asking too much of anyone. It might be kinder to wipe his memory now."

Ianto looked back at him, still finding it difficult to separate the face of the lover... ex-lover, and the man on the screen. "A bit late to start worrying about being kind to him now, Jack. You owe him a chance."

Jack nodded. "Give me the sword, Guy."

No hesitation. Jack looked down at the smeared blade. "Clean this up, Ianto, and lock it away. Then make up a bed, anywhere but the cells. Gwen, see if there's any more you can do for that arm, then brief Guy and take him for a very short walk outside. He might as well get some idea of what's out there. I'll be in my office. The paperwork on this one is going to be horrendous. Coffee as soon as you get a chance, please, Ianto."

Jack's staff were left in the cell. Guy spoke.

"You were both on my side. Why?"

"No," Gwen shook her head, quickly. "We were...are... on Jack's side, Always. He usually knows what he needs to do; we do what we're here for; we remind him what he ought to do. For him, not for you."

Guy nodded. "There was someone like that, once, for me. It's a hard job, and thankless, and dangerous. I hope your Jack appreciates it more than I did. I hope it has a better end, for all three of you."

He smiled, oddly warm considering what he had been through, with his usual hint of amusement. "Now. Show me this city of yours. Show me your world."

 


End file.
